


My Heart, My Soul, My Spark

by CatKing_Catkin



Category: Ikenfell (Video Game)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bathing/Washing, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Communication, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dark Magic, Developing Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hair Washing, Hallucinations, Headcanon, Healthy Relationships, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Introspection, Kissing, M/M, Near Death Experiences, Night Terrors, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Post-Game(s), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sharing a Bed, Tenderness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:27:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27156586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatKing_Catkin/pseuds/CatKing_Catkin
Summary: A look at Ibn and Bax, immediately after the final battle on top of the Spelltower.Somehow, after everything, they still have to figure out where they're going to sleep that night.As the night wears on to the dawning of a new season, they each find themselves consumed with thoughts of the past and worries for the future. But whatever their future holds, they remain resolved to be there for each other and to take care of each other, no matter what else might try to tear them apart.
Relationships: Ibn Oxley/Bax Twiford
Comments: 6
Kudos: 18





	My Heart, My Soul, My Spark

After everything, sleeping arrangements still had to be made.

Granted, once the skies cleared up, it was once again possible to realize that it was only mid-afternoon. The sun was still high in a new winter sky.

But it wasn’t as if anyone else was planning to do anything very much that day. Limping back down into the tower, making for the Traveler Oak, and then stumbling from there to wherever they were going to sleep was more than enough effort after everything.

Bax was exhausted, which was _stupid_. His wounds were mostly healed and he’d spent most of the chaos unconscious and _only mostly dead_. And yet absolutely every inch of him ached, most sharply around the bruise which was now the only remnant of what should have been a fatal blow.

And yet, the sensation that was most distracting was the dry, coppery taste which stubbornly lingered at the back of his throat. It was a symptom of severe blood loss that he was well familiar with. It was the most inescapable sign to him of how he’d very nearly bled out on the marble tiles of the tower and, in doing so, very nearly allowed the world to be destroyed.

Just taking the short range teleporter down a floor left him feeling dizzy, empty stomach lurching. He stumbled, as the world faded back into being around him, and then his overworked heart skipped a beat to feel steadying hands take hold of him, one at his shoulder and another at his hip. The barest glance back was enough to confirm what he mostly already knew. _Ibn_ , barely even tangible again after stepping out of the teleporter but already reaching out to steady him.

He could feel the force of the other man’s gaze on him, and the feeling was enough to make him blush and stare stubbornly at his feet. _I need you to take care of me._ He didn’t regret confessing those words - he’d meant them as much as he meant _I love you_. And it was true that such a brief moment did not make up for the need which had driven him on to say them in the first place.

But it was a reminder that Ibn had heard him. And it was a start. 

The red-haired girl - Maritte, he knew now that her name was Maritte - pressed a vial of something red and fizzy into his hands before they took the next teleporter. He gulped it down in one swallow and it felt as if that same fizzy energy spread down his throat and through his limbs, steadying him enough to make the last few legs of the journey back outside. 

When they finally emerged from the roots of the Traveler Oak, it wasn’t at the base of the tower. It was in the schoolyard proper, surrounded by yellow flowers, and when the feel of the sun and the scent of the grass caught up to him, Bax swayed and very nearly sank to his knees for reasons that had only a little to do with his persistent physical weakness. 

—but that would have caused a fuss all over again. In the end, he just leaned against Ibn, and Ibn was there to be leaned against. He hadn’t let go of Bax’s hand yet. 

It was Radegund and Ima who set to work settling on sleeping arrangements - a task which soon proved more formidable than initially anticipated, as other students were soon creeping out of their assorted dorms as realization spread that the crisis was over. 

Bax genuinely tried to pay attention, but the noise, the general chatter - he was frustrated to realize that his attention and awareness kept sliding away. In the end, he was mostly made aware of Ibn sliding an arm around his shoulders to guide him back towards the Traveler Oak. 

Travel by tree was gentler than travel by teleport. Bax was aware of the roots raising up and twining around them in what should have felt suffocating but which had always put him secretly in mind of something like an embrace. There was a brief, gentle squeeze, and then the roots uncurled so that he saw they were now surrounded by trees instead of flowers.

It took an embarrassingly long time for the word _forest_ to make its way through his increasingly hazy thoughts. It took until Ibn turned him around and guided him towards the door of the building they’d arrived outside for him to remember - _Stoc_ _and Barrel_. 

He gave up trying to follow the progression of events from there. He just leaned against Ibn, and Ibn was there to be leaned against. He managed to seize onto a snapshot of voices, the sound of coins clinking as they were passed from one palm to another, a door opening and closing, and then there was blessed quiet and stillness.

The stillness, at least, didn’t last nearly long enough, because he felt Ibn move away, and Bax heard himself make a low, sad sound in the back of his throat. His fingers twitched weakly with the urge to reach out and draw him back, _don’t leave me—_

“It’s okay.” 

Ibn’s voice sounded as if it were coming from so far away, yet Bax could still make out that his tone was gentle, soothing. Bax swayed again on the spot, and felt hands reach out to squeeze his shoulders, steadying him for just a moment longer. He felt himself being carefully divested of his coven reds and other assorted weapons and armor until he was left in his undershirt and pants, and then he felt himself guided gently but firmly to sit down on a bed so Ibn could get his boots and socks off. 

Bax couldn’t remember ever feeling so tired. It was a feeling that seemed to engulf the entire world. His body felt numb with weariness and his vision kept swimming, and then a bolt of sudden, cold fear cut through it all because what if the alchemist’s spell hadn’t worked, what if it was coming undone, what if he was dying all over again or worse, had never stopped—

“Ibn—” he croaked, reaching out with shaking hands to do…what? If he was really dying, what could be done?

“Bax,” Ibn said, and Bax managed to make his vision clear enough to see as well as feel Ibn reach out and hold tight to his hands. His breath caught in his throat, his fingers curled of their own volition. Ibn’s hands were so _warm_ , and that was such a simple realization, but somehow it made tears sting at the corners of his eyes. 

At least it was something else to feel besides the numb, cloying aftermath of terror.

“It’s okay,” Ibn was saying. “It’s okay, it’s - it’s going to be okay, Bax. I promise. I’m right here.” He leaned in to kiss Bax’s forehead as if sealing a promise. “I’m, I’m not going anywhere. Just…try to sleep, okay? I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

It was a lifeline, and he seized on it gratefully. “Yeah.” He managed to make himself nod. He even mustered a weak smile. “When I wake up…yeah.”

Because he would wake up. It was easier to believe, if he heard Ibn say it.

He didn’t need help laying down, but Bax was grateful for the help anyway. His head hit the pillow, and he had just enough time to feel a blanket being drawn over him before he slipped into sleep for a very long time.

* * *

 _I’m not as invincible as you think I am_.

Ibn sat with his knees drawn up to his chest, and watched Bax breathe, and thought about those words.

On some level, he was aware that he should also probably sleep. On some level, the idea of crawling under the covers with Bax and holding him close and listening to his heartbeat for hours seemed impossibly sweet. 

But it also seemed like an unconscionable indulgence, in the moment, especially since Ibn knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep for a while yet. He knew from painful past experience that, after losing control, it usually took a while for him to remember things like sleeping and eating.

Now that he was back in the world, it all _felt_ overwhelming and sharp and too much, too close. He felt as if he were hanging suspended, caught between powers that were once again just barely contained by his own skin, and the energy of the rest of the world which was trying hard to force him back into a human shape. It was static electricity and shards of glass, inside and out. He kept catching himself itching at his arms as if opening a valve to let steam escape

But he had to be present, he had to stay in the world, because he had to take care of Bax.

That was something to hold on to, at least. It was a focal point from which he could drag his mind into focusing on the matter of _how_.

Sleep seemed a good start. Food, perhaps, was a logical next step from there.

…that presented a problem, because to go get food he would have to leave the room, and everything inside him _balked_ at the idea. After all, he’d promised Bax that he’d be here when he woke up. What if Bax woke up while he was gone and worried, or what if something went wrong with the magic that had revived him and Ibn wasn’t here to help, or—

He didn’t know how long it took to bully himself into being sensible, curled up there on the floor with his head in his hands to try and block out some of the world’s aggressive _physicality_.

But eventually, he got the idea to leave a note. If Bax woke up and saw the note, he’d understand. If Bax woke up and there was food waiting for him, then he’d be grateful, surely. 

Ibn reminded himself of that again and again as he scrawled a quick note - _Went to get food. Be right back. Love you. <3_

He left it carefully on the pillow beside Bax’s head, and then - after taking a deep breath for courage - left the room and headed back towards the common room.

Stoc was as reassuring a presence as ever, so much so that Ibn only had to stop himself from digging his nails into his arm once or twice. Beyond that, there was vegetable stew on offer, made with red mushrooms from the surrounding forest. Ibn payed double for it and was happy to do so, then brought it quickly back to the room, with the bowl wrapped in a dish towel to keep it warm.

Bax still wasn’t awake when he returned. In hindsight, it seemed a little foolish to have expected that he might have been. 

Ibn set the bowl down on the end table, fussed with it a moment, and then sat back down on the floor to watch Bax breathe for a little while longer. 

Eventually, his sluggish mind started to tick back into motion and he once again started thinking of things he should be doing to take care of Bax. It seemed the only thing he _could_ make himself focus on, the one good outlet he had for all his lingering energy, the one good reason to make himself be in this world. 

But Bax was asleep, as well he should have been, and there didn’t seem to be much else Ibn could do for him right now in light of that.

In the end, he remembered that the Coven would be expecting reports of what had happened here. Truth be told, he wasn’t entirely sure himself of everything that had happened or why. He still didn’t entirely _know_ what had been so important about that little sapling except that it had been important enough for Bax to…

To…

In the end, he set to work writing out what he knew. As he did so, he reflected with a guilty start that Bax had usually been the one to write up their reports in the past. And this, well, this was a terrible time to learn. But he’d have to learn at some point, and there was no reason to let this chance pass him by. 

It was there that Bax found him still at work, hours later when the sun had set and Ibn was surrounded by the crumpled up remnants of close to a dozen failed attempts. Ibn, who had been hyperattuned to his partner’s every breath for hours now, heard him shifting, heard him mumbling in that way he knew meant waking. He heard the mattress creak as Bax sat up - and then, he heard slow, cautious footsteps drawing nearer. 

“Good thinking,” Bax said, breaking the silence of hours at last. His voice still sounded rasping and faint, but it was _his_ voice and the sound of him made Ibn let out a breath. “They’ll want to know what happened as soon as possible.”

He squeezed Ibn’s shoulder, and Ibn reached up to squeeze his hand in turn. Only then did he find the courage to look up at Bax’s face but, once he did, he found himself immediately and hungrily taking in every detail. Bax was awake and Bax was _alive_ but he was even paler than usual. There were bruised circles under his eyes and his jaw was tight in a way that betrayed stubbornly lingering pain. He looked so tired, he probably should have still been sleeping and Ibn hoped he hadn’t woken him…

Belatedly, he realized that he should say something. And, after all, there was a lot to say. “I’m starting to realize how little I know about what happened, truth be told.” His gaze fell to stare pensively at his latest attempt, pen tapping anxiously on the tabletop. “Those kids…they really solved it all behind our backs, didn’t they?”

“Seems so. Good thing, too.”

“Maybe we can find them again and get the full story later.”

“That’d probably be for the best.” Bax reached over Ibn’s shoulder to take up the half-finished report and scan it over, only for Ibn to pluck it back out of his hand and set it right back down. 

“No working! Not yet!” Ibn tried to fix his face into a stern expression. Judging by the way Bax’s mouth quirked up into a half-smile, he probably didn’t succeed. “I went and got food. You should eat.”

“Fine.” But Bax kept smiling as Ibn got up and helped him back to the bed. He sat down without complaint and waited patiently as Ibn unwrapped the bowl. Ibn, meanwhile, frowned when he saw that the towel hadn’t done enough to keep it warm after hours, and then—

Once upon a time, he hadn’t even been able to summon sparks without reaching out to the spirits over whom he held dominion. The recent crisis, for all the other difficulties it had caused, had at least given him that. For a moment, he wondered wildly whether those same sparks would still be there if he reached for that power now. For a moment, he wavered at the thought of reaching out for any power at all. 

But the thought of handing over cold soup to Bax was a thought that could not be bourne. Ibn took a breath and then, before he could talk himself out of it, summoned sparks to the palm of his hand. The liquid in the bowl only _just_ started to bubble, and then subsided as steam rose once again from its surface. 

Bax raised an eyebrow, but said nothing as Ibn handed the bowl over. He just took up the spoon, took a sip, and from there in a matter of moments he was eating steadily. Ibn watched him proudly for a moment before realizing, belatedly, that it would probably be a bit strange to just stand here and watch him eat. He turned away, intending to return to the desk, before—

“Where’s your food?”

Ibn stopped dead. He took a breath. “I—” _Already ate,_ he considered saying, but he’d never been much of a liar and had no real heart for trying it now. “—forgot,” he admitted, after a beat.

Bax hummed thoughtfully. Ibn very nearly winced to hear the bowl set down, to hear Bax get up and step around to face him, and—

He flinched, when Bax reached out. He immediately wished he hadn’t, because Bax frowned and let his hand fall back to his side. Ibn wished he wouldn’t do that, either. 

“Ibn…” Bax sounded tired and just a little sad but Ibn couldn’t find the note of disappointment that he’d both expected and feared to hear there as well. “You need to eat. Have you even slept at all?”

“I haven’t been tired.” Which was still true enough, after all, though he still felt embarrassed to admit as much there and then.

Bax’s gave a very soft sigh, little more than a huff of breath. This time, he didn’t hesitate to reach out to fussily brush some of Ibn’s hair back from his forehead. This time, Ibn didn’t flinch away.

“…I get it,” Bax admitted, after a beat. “I know that it’s easy for you to forget to take care of yourself after you’ve—” He fumbled visibly for a way to describe the events of the last day or so, before settling on: “—after you’ve gotten hurt. I remember.” It wasn’t the first time this had happened to Ibn since Bax became his handler, after all, though it was the worst by miles. “But that’s part of why I’m here. To remind you. Right?”

“Right.” He smiled tentatively, but this time it came easily.

This time, Bax returned the smile. He reached out to fuss some more - ran a hand through his hair, smoothed a hand along his shoulder and down his arm, fussed with his clothes. And then, surprisingly, he chuckled softly.

“You’re a mess,” he said, which was news to Ibn, but Bax sounded so achingly _fond_ that he couldn’t care about anything else. “Okay. Here’s what we’ll do. We’ll clean up, and then we’ll get you something to eat, and then you’ll try to sleep. Make sense?”

“Of course!” Ibn waved a hand airily, managing to summon some of his old flair for just a moment. “The easiest plan in the world! But—” He reached down to catch Bax’s hands in his once more, cradling them carefully, lacing their fingers together. “—only if you finish eating, and try to get some more sleep, too. Okay?”

The sight of Bax blushing had _always_ been adorable, but it was especially gratifying now to see some of the deathly paleness in his cheeks chased away by rising color. “Okay.”

The room’s adjoining bathroom didn’t have a tub as such, but that left more room for the shower itself so that the two of them could just about occupy the space together comfortably after getting undressed.

Ibn’s first time sharing a shower with another person was a generally chaste affair, a fact which he noted distantly but didn’t really feel any true surprise at. Mostly, they really did focus on getting each other cleaned up. At one point, Bax sat him down on the tiled floor as the hot water rained down on them, then set to work washing Ibn’s hair with a slow care and attention that made Ibn’s throat feel tight with emotion that he still struggled to name. 

From there, Bax moved on to Ibn’s shoulders, his back, and Ibn sat quietly and watched with dull surprise as ash, paint, and various sticky alchemical substances were worked free and washed away to swirl at last down the drain. 

“I really am a mess,” he heard himself say. He hadn’t even noticed. He’d always healed quickly. Even now, mere hours later, he could tell that the stains on his skin and the tears in his clothes were the only signs left behind of his fight on top of the tower and beyond. And yet, it had been a very long time since he’d faced any foe powerful enough to do even that much to him. The realization made him giggle weakly. “Those kids really did a number on me.”

It was a poor joke, and he knew it. He could clearly remember giving almost as good as he’d gotten, all the while trying his hardest to do _worse_.

“Almost done,” was all Bax said, and then he tipped Ibn’s head forward to protect his eyes before washing the soap out of his hair.

By that point, Ibn felt relaxed, almost pliant - still somewhat detached from his own body, but in a way more pleasant than he was used to. The warm shower steam enveloped him like a blanket, insulating him from the worst of the world, softening the sharp edges of everything. 

If nothing else, he now felt up to helping Bax get cleaned up in return. So he did. 

They got out, toweled off, and got dressed only after the water finally started to turn cold. Then Ibn left Bax to finish his soup while he ventured outside to see what he could scrounge as a late meal for himself.

In the end, he could only manage to eat half of a sandwich before the food started to sit too heavily in his stomach, making it roil traitorously. The effort was enough to ease Bax’s worries, and, in turn, the shadow mage wound up devouring the last of his soup along with the remaining half of the sandwich once Ibn offered it. 

After that, there was nothing for it but for Ibn to fulfill the last step of their plan, by allowing Bax to help him back over to the bed so that he could collapse gratefully upon it. 

A belated thought occurred to him as his eyes slipped closed. Tentatively hopeful, he shifted closer to the wall to make room on the other side of the mattress. Then his heart surged with a bright, fierce joy as he felt Bax also get into bed and lay down beside him.

Ibn forced his eyes half open. Seeing Bax’s face swim into view so close to him made him feel so full of desperate adoration and dizzying relief that he was faintly surprised his body could hold it all.

“I love you,” he whispered.

Bax smiled softly and kissed him gently. “I love you, too.”

The freedom of knowing that he loved Bax and that Bax felt the same was a heady and impossibly sweet thing. So Ibn made sure to kiss Bax back before he closed his eyes and settled down to sleep at last. 

* * *

This wasn’t the first time Ibn had lost control since Bax had been assigned to be his handler, even if it was by _far_ the worst time. So Bax knew what to keep an eye out for and what to prepare himself for. 

He was familiar with the way that, in the aftermath, Ibn often seemed distant and dissociative, with a glassy sheen to his eyes and a tendency to stare blankly like he was seeing through a hole in the world. In those times, it was as if he were a foot removed from his own body, as if he were absentmindedly puppeteering it from the outside rather than inhabiting it fully. Bax had extensive practice in coaxing Ibn to take care of himself despite that distance, and in doing so to help him remember that he was present in _this_ world rather than the ghost realm that had such a hold of him. The important thing was to keep Ibn grounded with real and physical things until it fully sank in that he was alone in his own head once more, that his soul was once again his own, and that the echoes of ghostly whispers had fully faded away.

It was a familiar process, but that didn’t make it an easy one. 

So Bax felt a pang of guilt for breaking a promise to Ibn, however small a promise it might have been, but he fought against sleep all the same. He laid beside his sleeping love, stroking his hair in a heartfelt attempt to soothe him wherever his mind had gone, but all the while he stared up at the ceiling and tried to keep himself awake by dwelling on pensive thoughts of the future. 

He only mostly succeeded. There were a few periods of time throughout the night when he slipped into a restless, fitful doze, only to startle awake a short while later, frustrated with himself once he realized what he’d done. 

On the last such occasion, he startled awake to the sound of the furniture rattling in warning alongside the sound of Ibn whimpering in his sleep. 

Cursing himself under his breath, Bax shoved himself upright and then immediately set to work trying to shake his charge awake. “Ibn, wake up! Ibn, I _need_ you to wake up, come _on—”_

Ibn was shaking like a leaf and, at the first touch of Bax’s hands, he flinched and curled up tighter. His hands were over his face, fingers furrowed. Bax wondered with a wild thrill of fear just what he’d see if he pulled those hands away, and then shoved the thought aside as being _entirely_ unhelpful right now.

 _“No no no no Bax no please—”_ Ibn gasped, his voice breaking on a sob and then trailing away to a horrible, choked moan. A pulse of dark magic flared out from him without warning - not strong enough to get through the wall, thankfully, but still strong enough to shove Bax hard against the headboard, knocking the breath from his lungs.

 _“Don’t touch him, give him back, s-stop,_ stop—”

Briefly dizzied, Bax nearly missed the next pulse, but managed to recover his wits and muster his will enough to phase through it just in time. Then, gritting his teeth as he flickered back into tangibility, he surged forward and threw his arms around Ibn, pulling him close and holding him fast.

Ibn let out a muffled cry and tried to fight against him, struggling and thrashing weakly. His powers flared around them, flashes of deeper darkness in the air which left spots dancing in Bax’s vision. But he _was_ still weakened after the battle, enough that even hours later he seemed unable to escape or cause any true harm.

From this angle, Bax still couldn’t see his face. He refused to let himself feel afraid of that, however, and he refused to let himself doubt. He just held on tight and kept talking. 

“I’m here, Ibn, I’m right here with you. Whatever you’re seeing, it’s a dream, it’s just a dream, and I need you to wake up, I need—” For just a moment, he faltered. For a moment, his voice wavered traitorously and his eyes stung with the threat of tears. He blinked them back and swallowed them down but even then, he was struck with the full weight of the life he’d gotten himself into, a life where he would _always_ have to keep fighting to hold on to the man he loved, even if the face of that man’s own magic.

For just a moment, Bax Twiford was tired to the bone.

 _“Don’t hurt me, d-don’t leave me, I’m sorry I’m_ sorry—”

Bax gritted his teeth, let the fear wash over him, and in its place he made himself remember the words he himself had spoken less than a day before.

_It won’t be easy. Nothing is. Not for us. But if you’re gone, we’ll never get that chance to be our best selves._

He would fight as much and as hard as it took to be able to see Ibn smile again.

“—I need you to come back to me,” Bax finished at last, his voice low and rough with emotion. He risked loosening his grip enough to brush some hair back from Ibn’s brow, enough that he could lean forward and press a kiss there, long and lingering. Even then, he didn’t pull away - he stayed close, and murmured the words he said next against his love’s feverish skin. “Because I’m right here, and I am _never_ going to leave you. Not now, not ever. I love you _so much_ , my spark, so come back to me please, _please—”_

He kept up his mantra, his prayer, and he did not falter again. Slowly, he felt the fight bleeding out of Ibn. Slowly, the flashes of darkness and little rifts in the world faded entirely. Slowly, Bax allowed his grip to become less of a restraint and more of an embrace. 

Until at last, Ibn drew in one last, shuddering breath, before going entirely boneless in Bax’s arms. The tone of his breathing changed - deep, shuddering gasps rather than quick and shallow wheezing. He lifted his head, looked around him, and despite the hair hanging in his face Bax could see the last of the black energy fading from his veins, the last of the inhuman light dimming in his eyes, until his face was entirely human once more. 

He met Bax’s gaze, his eyes wide and wild. Bax smiled back as gently as he could, even as tears blurred his vision. “Welcome back.”

And then Ibn burst into tears.

Bax wasn’t entirely surprised, especially not when Ibn threw his arms around him and _wailed_ against his chest. The tears came in huge, wrenching, painful-sounding _sobs_ , tears of fear and pain and grief and more, as he clung to Bax like a lifeline. 

Bax moved just enough to be able to lean back against the wall as he held him - one arm around Ibn’s back, the other cradling his head against Bax’s chest, hoping perhaps that the sound of his heartbeat might give some small comfort. 

“I’m s-sorry!” Ibn was weeping, awake and lucid now as he said it and no less heartfelt for it. “I’m sorry, I’m _so_ sorry, I—”

“Shhh,” Bax whispered softly, before kissing the top of his head. This time, he didn’t bother to fight back his tears. “It’s okay. I’m here. I’m right here. It’s all going to be okay.”

Ibn soon dissolved back fully into wordless, breathless tears. Bax just held him as he cried and did what he could to gentle him through the worst of the storm.

 _Save it for later_ , he’d said, back on top of the tower. _These kids have something they need to do_. It seemed as if “later” had finally arrived for them both.

It took a while for Ibn to fully cry himself out, but he did in the end. As the sky started to slowly lighten outside, it found them holding each other still, with Bax leaning against the wall and Ibn slumped against his chest. Perhaps the sound of Bax’s heartbeat had been some comfort after all.

Bax had been drifting for a while, by then, lost on a tide of weariness and only half-aware. So he startled slightly when Ibn spoke once more.

“I’m sorry,” his charge whispered, and this time his voice was weak and faint, wrung-out and hoarse, and he also sounded undeniably awake and aware. He made to sit up, and Bax let him do so after only a brief hesitation. Even then, Ibn couldn’t seem to look at him - he hung his head, instead, his eyes fixed on the rumpled bedsheets around them.

“I—” Ibn made a frustrated noise and scrubbed at an eye with the heel of one hand. “I wanted to take care of you, and here I am forcing you to take care of me all over again. It’s not fair to you.” He moved, seemingly unconsciously, to hug himself, as if braced for a blow. Bax’s heart _ached_ all over again. “I really am a bother.”

“Yes, you are,” Bax said, and then hastened on to add: “And that’s part of why I love you. Remember? I told you.”

Through the fading shadows, he saw the barest, tiniest hint of a smile light Ibn’s face, even if he still didn’t lift his head. Bax didn’t hesitate to press the advantage - he’d had a lot of time to think tonight, after all. “Ibn, you took _very_ good care of me tonight. But that doesn’t mean I want to _stop_ taking care of you. Okay?”

“…okay.”

“We—” Bax took a deep breath. “—we’re going to have to work to find out what the balance is. I know that. And we’re going to mess up sometimes. We’ll _both_ mess up sometimes. I know that, too. It won’t be easy, but I know it will be worth it. And…Ibn? Tonight was a _very_ good start to all of that.” He could tell the other man was still hungry for the reassurance, after all, and Bax felt no hesitations about providing it. “For me, at least. I hope it was for you, too.”

“It was.” And Ibn finally seemed to find it in himself to lift his head and meet Bax’s gaze. His smile grew a little more pronounced, a little more real, and Bax felt as if he were falling in love all over again. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” And then, because this was still such a new and heady freedom that he wanted to enjoy, Bax added: “Can I kiss you?”

Ibn brightened like a flower in the sun, and Bax was newly resolved all over again that no matter how long and how hard he had to fight to keep this man by his side, it would always, _always_ be worth it.

Ibn leaned in to kiss him, and Bax was happy to kiss him back. 

**Author's Note:**

> Of course, as we know from the epilogue, Petronella eventually joins the Coven and they help get Ibn to much more stable footing.
> 
> Bax doesn't know it over the course of this fic, but his perseverance will eventually pay off.


End file.
